I Flipping Love You (Shacking Up 3)
Page 46
“Law and I will be fine. He’s been doing this on his own for a while, and I’ve jumped in with both feet over the past couple of months. I have a tendency to take things over, and this is a reminder that it was his project first, not mine.”
Her nose wrinkles. “You are kind of pushy.”
“You like my pushy.”
“Pushy sounds a lot like pussy.” She slips her fork between her lips, slurping up a rogue noodle, grinning as she chews and tacks on cat at the end.
I leave that comment. We have all night for more sex, and I plan to capitalize on the hours between now and tomorrow morning. “What prompted the sudden move into flipping houses?” I ask, moving the conversation away from the negative aspects of my personality and the similarities between words that start with p and end with a y sound.
She glances up at me. “It’s not really sudden. We’ve always planned to flip; we just needed the capital to make it happen.”
“How long have you been in real estate?”
“We started pretty young. It’s hard to get people to take you seriously when you look like a college freshman, but the past few years have been good. We’ve built a solid reputation and a base of clients.” She worries the inside of her lip. “You don’t think Lawson will say anything bad about us, do you?”
“Because he wasn’t the first person you called when a potential property came available? Unlikely, but I can talk to him if you want.”
She sweeps her fingers back and forth over her lips, considering. “I don’t want to ask you to do that. I don’t want to be the reason for dissention between you and your brother.”
“You aren’t the reason for dissention. His reactive personality and my need to come in and takeover everything is.”
She laughs. “You’re an interesting man.”
“Good interesting or bad interesting?”
“The good kind of interesting. You’re kind of a walking, talking oxymoron. You’ve got a background in law, so you could work this supercushy office job, and make great money. But you choose to get your hands dirty instead and dabble in an unstable, sometimes unforgiving market.”
“Well, to be fair, the Hamptons are pretty consistent in terms of profit and desirability, so I’m not really rolling the dice and taking chances. And if I’m totally honest, I’m only a lawyer because I’m usually good with details and facts. Recent events excluded.”
“You mean the patent issue?”
I’m not sure how much I want to divulge. It’s not like she can’t look up my family if she wants to. Although my father has done a good job of paying people off to keep the blow-up dolls out of the direct line of the media, things slip through no matter how diligent he is. My sister happens to work for one of the biggest media corporations in New York, and the wife of the CEO adores her, so that definitely helps. “Mmm. Yes, that.” I steer the conversation away from me. “Anyway, tell me more about the flip. What’re your plans?”
“Well, the obvious, for starters, exterior and interior cosmetics. I want to preserve the quaintness, but bring it into the twenty-first century with a new kitchen, paint, refinished floors, you know, standard updates and upgrades. It’s a great location with a nice yard and a gorgeous view, so we should be able to get top dollar for it if we manage to keep the renovation costs down.”
“If you need help with trades or anything, let me know.”
“Won’t Lawson be angry if he finds out you’re helping me?”
“He can be angry all he wants. It’ll give me an excuse to see more of you.”
Rian drops her head and laughs. Eventually she peeks up, smiling softly. “I had you pegged all wrong.”
“People usually do. What misaligned assumptions did you have?”
“I thought you were a rich, cocky a-hole. Well, you’re cocky, but you can get away with it, considering.”
“Considering what?” Maybe she means the rich part. I’m sure she already has an inkling, considering we put in a cash offer for the Franklin place. Most people can’t come up with a hundred grand in cash, let alone three-quarters of a million plus. If that wasn’t a giveaway, my car, my suits, and the fact that I’m walking around on the beach with two grand in my wallet should be.
I’m kind of a spoiled shit, if I think about it. Which is probably one of the reasons I’m struggling to walk away from law. More than that, I don’t want to disappoint my dad by bailing on him when the business is already starting to fail, or create more dissension between him and my mother, although they can always seem to find that on their own.
Rian gestures to me as if it’s obvious.
I look down and run a hand over my bare chest. “I can be cocky because I have a six-pack?”
“It’s not just about the six-pack.”
“So, it’s because I work out.”
“Not exactly.” She bites the end of her finger then taps my black nail. “This is sexy.”
I arch a brow. “I didn’t realize having a black nail that’s probably going to fall off in a few weeks could be considered sexy.”
She sighs. “It’s not the nail. You don’t look the way you do because you go to some gym and pump iron in front of a mirror with fifty other grunting men and a bunch of women in sports bras.”
“Are you familiar with that scenario?” I don’t like the idea of anyone other than me experiencing that view.
“Marley buys Groupons and makes me go to the gym with her.” She rolls her eyes. “Anyway. You look like this because you push yourself physically. Like this muscle.” She pokes my forearm. “What is that, even? It looks like you have a golf ball hiding under there.”
“It’s from swinging a hammer.”
“See? So sexy.” She runs her fingers down my forearm, skirting the healing nicks and cuts on my knuckles. “You kind of break all the molds. You have to be able to see why I was reluctant to go out with you.”
“Because I fit some kind of stereotype?”
“Because you look like you’re good at breaking hearts and bed frames.”
“I promise the latter is far more likely than the former.” I wink on reflex.
“And you have all the lines.”
“That’s not a line, that’s me being honest. I’m not a heartbreaker. Remember, I’m the one who had my heart broken in the past.”
She settles into the corner of the couch, spinning noodles on her plastic fork. “You can’t tell me you didn’t break any girls’ hearts along the way. You must’ve had a sow-your-oats phase in college or something.”
“I dated, but I didn’t make a habit of stringing girls along.” Back then I’d had freedom, at least a little, and being here now feels like I have it again, even if it’s only temporary. In some ways, what we’re doing reminds me of college nights spent eating takeout and putting off homework or studying in lieu of hanging out with a pretty girl. I should be working on this house, but instead, I’m spending time getting to know Rian.
“Tell me what you were like in college. Did you always have to keep Marley in line? Were you a math tutor? What did you study?”
Rian sets her food on the coffee table and folds her legs under her. “Marley can’t be kept in line by anyone. I probably would’ve tutored if I’d had the chance. I started in math, finances actually, but it got complicated.” She pauses and worries her lip before she continues. “So I ended up dropping out partway through my first semester.”